


Sensitive Exploration

by Ticklishanimeboysaremylife



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, Tickle Games, Tickle fic, Tickle torture, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29625798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife/pseuds/Ticklishanimeboysaremylife
Summary: Alastor has a tradition of tickling the different members of the hotel, and one day Angel decides to get him back.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	Sensitive Exploration

“If you just tell me, this will be over faster you know.”

“F-Fahahahack yohohou!”

Angel Dust often wondered how so often he found himself on the receiving end of Alastor’s so-called “punishments”. It was a tradition he had started a while back, after he had poked Charlie in the side and she had squeaked in response. After Charlie had sheepishly explained her reaction to him, Alastor took it upon himself to fully test the sensitivity of everyone in the hotel, as he found the subject fascinating. Not that he wasn’t aware what tickling was, of course, but it had been a long time since he had encountered the concept in a real way. It became a habit that, whenever anyone in the hotel was feeling down or being particularly grumpy that day, Alastor would tickle them until they either smiled or learned their lesson.

Charlie had been his first target, of course, and by far one of the most willing recipients. Vaggie proved to be a challenge, and Alastor only braved her wrath a couple of times. Husk had protested, but once Alastor discovered that his wings were ticklish he had quickly crumpled under his devilish touch. Nifty was simply not ticklish, a discovery that disappointed both her and Alastor greatly.

That left only Angel Dust. By the time Alastor approached him, Angel had heard and seen the other’s experiences with the radio demon and was a begging mess of giggles before the other had even touched him.

Easily the most ticklish and the most cocky of the group, Angel was the most common recipient of Alastor’s whims of fancy. He could always tell when Alastor meant to tickle him, either by a certain gleam in his eyes or a smile that was slightly more slanted than usual. There was no use protesting, but Angel did so anyway, a nervous excitement bubbling up in his voice each time. Alastor would eventually back off, once he could see the other had had enough, but he made sure to give him the wrecking of a lifetime before then.

Currently, Alastor had tendrils wrapped around all six of Angel’s limbs, pinning each one to the wall. They were inside one of the hotel’s many guest rooms, as most were unused and Alastor had wanted their time to be interrupted. Alastor was currently scribbling fingers under the first pair of armpits, while four more tendrils attacked the rest. Angel was dying, helpless cackles and squeals breaking loose as he attempted to free himself from the other’s impossibly strong grip.

Alastor was on a mission that night. He had noticed while tickling the other residents that there was usually one spot on all of them that appeared far more sensitive than the rest of their body. However, whenever he was tickling Angel he tended to go all out and thus missed each particular reaction. Tonight, however, he planned to find the other’s so-called “death spot” and exploit it for all it was worth.

“Really, it’s only going to be worse if I have to find it myself,” Alastor commented briskly, switching between light scribbles over his armpits and digging in with his thumbs. The constant fluidity of the two methods seemed to be working wonders on the spider demon who was quickly in hysterics.

“I-I’m nohohot fuhuhucking tehehelling yohohou!” Angel spat, the venom torn from his voice as his words were followed by a flood of giggles. “D-Dohoho yohohour wohohorst!”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. “My, my. If I’m not mistaken, it almost seems like you want me to tickle you Angel. Is that the case? Hmm? Did I get it right?”

The blush flaming on Angel’s cheeks spoke louder than his words. “Shuhuhut uhuhup!”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Yohohour fahahace ihihisn’t ahaha dehehenial!”

“Clever comeback,” Alastor responded dryly. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll simply find it all on my own.” He inspected the other critically. “Now, as sensitive as your armpits appear to be, I don’t think it’s your worst spot. Do you agree?”

Angel shook his head through his laughter, though it wasn’t clear if he was denying or affirming the statement.

“I wonder… this spot always seemed to cause quite a reaction.” With a snap of his fingers the tentacles tormenting his armpits disappeared. Angel sagged, momentary relief filling him, but in the next instant hands were squeezing his hips and electricity shot up his spine. He let out a startled yelp, his struggling increasing tenfold as he fought to get Alastor away from the area.

“And my efforts reward me.” Alastor smiled smugly, kneading his fingers into the skin. “Could this be the foretold death spot?”

“Sure! Suhuhure, yehehep, dehehefinitely!” Angel agreed, eagerly nodding his head and twisting frantically away from the surge of ticklish sensations. “Juhuhust stahahahap!”

“Sure?” Alastor wrinkled his brow. “Well that’s not very convincing.”

“Yehehes ihit ihihihis, ehehehe, stahahaha—nohoho, ahaha, pfft!”

Alastor absently spidered nails over the skin of hips, trailing down towards his lower stomach, as he considered where else the spot could be. Angel slammed his head back against the wall in frustration, squirming wildly as a cascade of wheezy squeaks escaped him. In a desperate attempt to get him to stop, Angel kicked out one of legs suddenly, trying to push the other back. Unfortunately, his resistance gave Alastor an idea.

“Ah! Right. Thank you for reminding me Angel.” He caught the other’s leg in his grasp, wrapping an arm around his ankle and locking the limb in place. “I completely forget about those knees of yours. So silly of me.”

Angel’s groan at his own self-caused destruction was cut off by a shriek as Alastor squeezed the spot right above his kneecap that had always killed him in the past. Angel burst into cackles, his leg jerking violently in the other’s hold. “No, no, no, no, no, nohohohoho! Ahahahalastor!”

“Yes?”

“Ihihihi—pfft, ahahahaha, ehehe, gahahaha!”

“You must use your words, dear.” He gripped his calf, holding his leg taut and spidering his claws over the undersides of his knees. Angel squeaked, desperation rising in his movements. “I really can’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

Angel was quite possibly going to kill him after this. Or thank him. Or both.

“Well as fun as this spot is,” Alastor said, his touches featherlight and unbearable against Angel Dust’s skin. “I think there’s another place I have declined to include in this exploration. Do you know where it is?”

“D-Dohohon’t yohohou fuhuhuhucking dahahahare!”

“Whatever are you referring to?” Alastor asked innocently, but already his claws were creeping perilously close to the other’s trembling thighs.

“Y-Yohou knohow whahahat!” Angel squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable with nervous excitement. “Ahahahal, I’m whahaharning yahaha—shihiHIHIHIT!”

Angel shrieked, arching back against the wall as fingers prodded and spidered all over his thighs. He tugged desperately at each of his arms, his legs, babbling out incoherent nonsense in a useless attempt to get Alastor to stop.

“Bingo,” Alastor said, smirking.

“Fuhuhuhuck, fuhuhuck, fuhuhuhuhuhUHUHUHUhuhuhuck! StahahAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEASE!” Angel was losing his mind. His thighs had always been a kill zone, which was difficult in his line of work. Giggling in the middle of sex was not something most people were accustomed to. Not that he was particularly opposed to the combination of two of his favorite activities, but it was awkward giving out excuses afterwards. Now though, he was free to laugh and squirm all he wanted, which he did, energetically. “Ehehehe, ihihihit fuhuhuHUhucking tihihIHIHIHICKLES!”

“So it does,” Alastor exclaimed. “Astute observation. Well, I guess it’s good that you like it then.”

Angel grit his teeth, desperately wishing he wasn’t giggling like an absolute maniac so he could retain some semblance of dignity. “Yohohohou’re suhuhuhuhuhuch ahahaha dihihihick!”

“Language,” Alastor reminded him, squeezing a spot on his inner thigh that made Angel regret everything he’d ever done. “You wouldn’t want me to keep you like this forever.”

Angel’s eyes bugged out of his head at the thought as he fell into a whole new round of laughter.

As it was, he did not keep him forever but only for a couple more minutes before he finally released him. Angel let out a giggly sigh of relief, shakily supporting himself against the wall.

“That…” he panted, shooting him a glare. “Was completely uncalled for.”

“But Angel,” Alastor crooned in a way that altogether unfair. “How could I possibly resist tickling you when you look so cute laughing and helpless?”

Angel rolled his eyes, blaming the flush on his cheeks from his lack of breath. “Yeah, whatever. How would you like it if I pinned you down and tickled you whenever I felt like it?”

Angel may or may not have imagined the faint pink that tinged Alastor’s cheeks at the question. “Impossible,” he dismissed, waving a hand. “I’m not ticklish.”

“Bullshit,” Angel accused. “Everyone’s ticklish!”

Alastor shrugged. “Not me.”

“Fine then—prove it.”

“Prove it?” Alastor asked, arching an eyebrow. “And just how do you suppose I do that?”

Angel crossed his arms, leaning back confidently. “Let me tickle you.”

An unmistakable shudder made its way down Alastor’s spine at the proposition. In all fairness, even he wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. He hadn’t been tickled since he was still living, and not since he was a little boy at that. He was fairly certain he wasn’t ticklish, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

“Fine,” he said at last, calmly raising his arms above his head as though the position didn’t instantly fill him with a sense of debilitating vulnerability. “Go ahead.”

Angel had not expected the dare to work, and so was unreasonably excited at the scenario they now found themselves in. He stepped forward, placing four hands on his sides, the remaining two hanging limp by his sides and waiting for the right oppurtunity. Without any kind of prologue, Angel started quickly wiggling all twenty of his fingers against his sides and the result was glorious.

Alastor, who had not accounted for the amount of hands set against him, was overwhelmed by how unbelievably wrong he had been. He squeaked, bursting into a round of sudden giggles and attempting to somehow squirm away from the other’s touch while also not pulling his arms down or shoving him off.

“Holy shit,” Angel muttered, delight coloring his words. “You’re ticklish. This is amazing.”

“Ahahahahahaha, wahahahait, Ahahahangel! Ihihit feheheheels weheheheird!” Alastor protested, arms trembling above his head. He had completely forgotten how conflicting tickling felt, having not experienced in such a long time. A fluttery, unbearable sensation, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to rub the feeling away or have it last forever. It was truly a conundrum.

“Of course it feels weird,” Angel agreed, shaking his head incredulously. “It fucking tickles. But you know, I’m starting to feel like I can’t trust you to hold to our agreement. Maybe I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

His remaining arms reached up, securing Alastor’s wrists and pressing them and him back into the far wall. Their positions now reversed, the radio demon’s eyes widened as the true helplessness of his situation set in. Angel set in with a vengeance now, secure in the fact that the other wouldn’t fight back. Squeezing, poking, prodding, scratching, his fingers flew over Alastor’s torso in a manner that was altogether unfair and, of course, unbelievably ticklish.

“Wahahahait, wahahahait, stahahahahap!” Alastor protested, falling into a fit of laughter soon after. As it turned out, he was horridly sensitive everywhere and Angel took quick advantage of this fact.

“Why, Al? Is it bothering you?” Angel poked under his arms, scribbled fingers over his hips, squeezed the tops of his knees, kneaded his thighs, getting revenge on each and every spot that Alastor had tormented him with. Alastor yelped and jumped with each new method, wishing he hadn’t been quite so thorough in his own investigation. “Wow, you really are ticklish everywhere, huh? I can’t help but wonder though,” he said, parroting Alastor’s words from earlier. “Are these really your worst spots?”

“I-Ihihihihi dohohohon’t knohohohow!” Alastor replied honestly, desperately hoping it was because there was no way it could possibly get worse than this. He tugged frantically on his arms, shaking his head side to side in an attempt to somehow cope with the sensations.

The action gave Angel Dust an idea however. Alastor’s hair fell in his face, revealing those ears which had been a subject of fascination for the spider demon for quite some time. He narrowed his eyes, a thought occurring to him suddenly.

Leaving his armpits alone, his hesitantly scratched the soft material, his nails scratching devilishly against the spot where his ears connected to his neck. Alastor squealed, his shoulders coming up protectively as a flood of giggles spilled from his lips.

“A-Ah! Ahahahangel, wahahahait, thihihis ihihis tohohoo muhuhuhuch!” Alastor’s dignity was quickly crumbling. His chin came almost parallel to his chest as he attempted to trap the other’s fingers. “Ihihihi cahahahahan’t, plehehehease!”

“But you’re so cute,” Angel cooed, scratching right behind his ears and prompting a squeak from the other. “And I got to be honest, making you squeal like this is kind of fun.”

“YohohOHOHOHohohou—” Alastor started in angry embarrassment, but before he could get another word out, Angel moved his right hand over to the other ear as well and he broke off into staticky cackles.

“Holy shit man, is that radio static?” Angel exclaimed, fascination getting the better of him. “Does that happen when you laugh too hard?”

“STAHAHAHAP!” Alastor pleaded instead of answering, squeezing his eyes shut. “PleheEHEHEHease, STAHAHAP!”

“That’s adorable! I’m gonna have to do this more often!”

The thought was enough to send Alastor into an entirely new round of helpless laughter, and in a burst of clarity he managed to manipulate his shadows into seizing Angel Dust under the arms and pulling him away from him.

“Woah, hey, easy there,” Angel complained as the tentacles roughly escorted him on the ground. “This is prized real estate here, fellas.”

Alastor sagged against the wall, exhausted. His nerves were overstimulated from the sudden attack and he clutched his sides, trying to rub away any leftover sensation. “That was…”

“Awful?” Angel guessed, clambering to his feet. “Unbearable?”

“Exhilarating,” Alastor corrected, flushing gently. “I never realized how, ah, intense tickling could be. I can see now why you react so strongly each time.”

“Yeah,” Angel grumbled in agreement. “It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.” He paused, paling slightly. “You’re not gonna… uh, you know, do anything to me, are ya? Because you have to know I was just kidding around and I would never—”

“Angel,” Alastor interrupted. “I’m not going to do anything to you.”

“Oh.” Angel frowned. “You’re not?”

“No. In fact, I… I wouldn’t be opposed, necessarily, to a repeat of earlier if the right moment ever came.” Alastor spoke plainly as always, but there was a nervous tilt to his words now. “It is possible that I may have enjoyed parts of it.”

Angel stared at him, sure that he was imagining things. Was the radio demon, the terror of hell, actually admitting to liking being tickled? And revealing this information to him, Angel Dust, no less?

Before he could formulate a response, Alastor was moving past him and down the hall, calling out to Nifty and Husk at the bottom of the stairs about some new idea or renovation he had for the hotel—acting as though he hadn’t just admitted the biggest revelation of Angel’s life seconds before. After a moment, Angel returned to his room as well, though Alastor’s words never left his mind for a second.

Life was much different in the hotel after that.

**Author's Note:**

> For the anon who requested a Hazbin fic with Angel and Alastor discovering each other’s death spot.   
> You can find me at my tumblr: https://happyandticklish.tumblr.com/


End file.
